


The Hunt - Dream Team + BBH/The Trio Fanwork

by panpass



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), The Trio - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Antfrost - Character, BadBoyHalo - Character - Freeform, DreamWasTaken - Character - Freeform, GeorgeNotFound - Character, I went batshit fucking insane with this, M/M, Minecraft, Relationships are Platonic, SapNap - Character, Skeppy - Character - Freeform, YouTubers - Freeform, a6d - Character - Freeform, and besides theres no room for it in this story, antfrost'll be showing up at some point, as you can probably tell, don't worry though they'll get their chance to shine, idk when yet this was a last minute decision after he showed up in manhunt, mcyt - Freeform, sleepy boys aren't really featured in this, sue me i can't write romance, this is based on Minecraft Manhunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpass/pseuds/panpass
Summary: Since the day he’d been conceived, Clay had a purpose. He had a reason for existing, as gruesome as it could be considered. He’d been born to kill the Dragon, the malicious goddess of the End, and he planned to succeed.Once he was changed, he slid on his shoes and exited his room. He heard no noises below, leading him to assume that his sister had also left the home, likely having gone out to assist in the fields. After all, it was just another day. Nothing special was happening, nothing tragic.The village lost nothing that day, as Clay no longer existed in their eyes. He couldn’t, not until he’d slain the dragon and freed their world.That was his mission, his purpose.And unlike those that came before him; he would not fail.---welcome to this... uh... this. that's about it.warning, this story will contain the following:- blood- depictions of violence- strong language- potential romantic relationships- potential character death
Relationships: Clay | Dream &; Georgenotfound &; Nick | Sapnap, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch & Vincent | A6d
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	1. Sunrise

Since the day he’d been conceived, Clay had a purpose. He had a reason for existing, as gruesome as it could be considered. He’d been born to kill the Dragon, the malicious goddess of the End, and he planned to succeed. 

His uncle had failed - the previous Champion - and Clay had been given his name in remembrance. His body had never been recovered, of course, but the spawn of the void continued to appear in the Overworld - a sure sign that he’d failed in his mission. Clay had no plans to continue that legacy though - it had been the duty of his family for nearly a century, and all those before him had failed. 

No, he was going to finally write an ending to the story, to  _ her _ story, and a new beginning for his own. He would save his people, his world, as he’d been raised too. And now the day was upon him - as soon as he’d bother to open his eyes. 

The blond-haired male groaned as he noticed the light filtering in through his window, a bright, yellow tint apparent just past his closed eyelids. This was a big day, an exciting day, but if Clay was honest - he didn’t want to get up. His bed was comfortable, his covers warm, and he knew that this was likely to be the last time he got a good night's rest for a long while. 

He moved his right arm, draping it over his eyes in an attempt to block the light and keep it from disturbing him any further. The sun’s rays weren’t the only perpetrator that morning though… Clay could clearly hear footsteps in the hall past his door, coming ever closer. Within moments there was a knock, and Clay couldn’t help but to emit an even louder groan, rolling over in his bed until he was practically being smothered by his pillow. 

He heard a creaking as his door was opened, followed by more footsteps and a small hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. The movement was almost hesitant, and the floorboards creaked as whoever it was seemed to shift back and forth anxiously. 

“It um… It’s time, Clay.” His younger sister’s voice was oddly quiet, but he could understand why - he knew perfectly why. He was supposed to have left already, even if he didn’t want to. “The sun rose a little while ago. You’ll have to sneak out the back.” 

Ah, the rules. He certainly hadn’t forgotten them, but he thought they made no sense, they were useless and were the reason they’d lost so many Champions before him, he was sure. They were simple. First, the Champion had to leave by dawn. No one could see him leave - it had to be as though he’d never existed - until he’d come back with the dragon’s head. It was better that way, allowed for less of a connection and ensured it was easier to grieve when he ended up never coming back. It gave him more time to collect resources too, before the night would fall and he’d be left alone, far from the safety of his village. It saved the village's resources too. After all, why waste iron on a dead man? 

Clay forced himself up, letting out a sigh as he turned around and faced his only sibling. She was taller than him now, as he half-sat up on his bed, but he knew the moment he stood he’d dwarf her. She’d often threaten to kick him in the back of the knee, bring him down to her level, but her normal ferocity was gone. As much as Clay understood why, it didn’t hurt any less. It was strange, seeing her so docile, and he quickly adjusted himself so he was facing her fully. 

“Hey, hey.” He began, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, careful not to accidentally hit his sister. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He offered a half-hearted chuckle, but it hardly seemed to convince her, the girl’s worried expression unchanging. Clay sighed again, standing up and offering her a small smirk as he looked down upon her. “Maybe you’ll have grown a few more inches by then.” Her expression changed at that, a scowl forming. 

“You know what?” She crossed her arms, serious expression earning a laugh from Clay. 

“What?”

“I don’t know if I want you to come back.” She stated plainly and Clay feigned a hurt expression, a small pout forming on his face, but he couldn’t keep from laughing a little as he uttered a small, “ow, my feelings”. 

His sister puffed out her cheeks a bit, a sigh escaping her as her gaze shifts to the ground. “Look. Be careful, okay? If you can’t do it…” She pauses, looking back up at him after a few moments. “Well, nobody’ll know right? You could run away, find a new village. Nobody expects you to come back anyway,” a slight flinch from Clay, lips drawn into a thin line. She notices, opening her mouth for a second before closing it, seemingly hesitant. “That’s not what I meant. Really, if anyone can do it - it’s you Clay. I just… why die if you don’t have to?” Her voice cracked as she stared up at him, her blue eyes searching his. 

Clay felt almost hesitant as he rested his hand on her shoulder. “That’s the thing though. If I don’t at least try, think of what you’re sacrificing.” They both knew what he meant, and his sister too winced. If he failed, her child would be the next Champion. If he decided to jump ship, his opportunity to save her from that would be wasted. “If I have a chance to end this, I’m taking it. No one else is going to die - not to that dragon, and not from her spawn either.” The distaste was evident in his voice as he referenced the dragon. She was the cause of all of this. She’d cursed the villages with monsters that would run rampant late at night, forcing them to remain locked away in their homes, too scared to leave and too weak to fight for long. Even now he could feel his blood boil as he thought of those who’d lost their lives in the days after the curse had spread through the land. It’d been written, their experiences, and the idea that some creature could bring something so horrible down upon a land of innocents was nauseating. 

His sister only nodded, head bowed a bit. She reached into her jacket then, and as Clay watched she carefully pulled out a bluish-purple potion, resting it in his hands. “Here, at least take this.” The shock was evident in Clay’s eyes as he stared down at it. He recognized it immediately, as he’d been trained too. A potion of invisibility. 

“Did you steal this? You know I can’t-“ 

“Clay. You’ve already broken one rule by not being gone by first light. What’s one more?” The look in her eyes was a bit pleading, as though she didn’t know what she’d do if he didn’t accept the gift. That look cemented Clay’s determination, his grip on the potion tightening. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” He nodded slowly, before letting out another sigh and moving past his sister to his chest, his outfit alright lying on top of it, folded neatly. He reached down, carefully picking it up, and looked it over as he let it unfurl. A green hoodie - his favorite, actually - and a pair of plain pants. Clay hummed almost thoughtfully as the twenty-one year old looked over the outfit. The green jacket could possibly help with camouflage in the woods, though it’d be a dead give away anywhere else. He’d have to be careful. 

He opened his chest next, pulling out a plain white t-shirt before closing it again and glancing back at his sister. She was still standing there, watching him with a piercing gaze. He knew her strength, how fierce and independent she was - and that was the reason the tears threatening to slip down her cheeks left such a gash in his heart. They seemed to exchange a glance, and within moments her arms were wrapped around him. A moment passed, the sudden intimate embrace leaving Clay somewhat surprised, before he too allowed his arms to wrap around her. There were no noises from either for a few moments, and Clay wondered if perhaps he’d accidentally smothered her with his shoulder, before her muffled voice was heard. 

“Just… tell me you’ll be okay.” 

Clay blinked, pulling away from the embrace and leaving his sister mildly alarmed, staring at him in surprise as he gripped her shoulders. The heat in his gaze now was different then what other’s might’ve seen during his training, and it was ten times more powerful. 

“I  _ promise _ .” As soon as the words were spoken, silence filled the room as the pair stared at each other, before his sister nodded, lifting one hand to rub her eyes. Without another word, she left the room, leaving Clay to slip out of what he’d worn to bed and change into his new outfit. It wasn’t likely he’d be changing anytime soon, as he’d have to find another village and trade in order to get new clothes, and he felt fortunate that the outfit he’d chosen was comfortable. 

Once he was changed, he slid on his shoes and exited his room. He heard no noises below, leading him to assume that his sister had also left the home, likely having gone out to assist in the fields. After all, it was just another day. Nothing special was happening, nothing tragic. 

The village lost nothing that day, as Clay no longer existed in their eyes. He couldn’t, not until he’d slain the dragon and freed their world. 

That was his mission, his purpose.

And unlike those that came before him; he would not fail. 

—————

The male suddenly let out a gasp, his eyes shooting open. His head hurt, his gut twisted uncomfortably, and he couldn’t help but to shift onto his hands and knees and dry heave a bit as the whispers of those around him faded in and out. 

A gentle hand ran along his spine as he recovered, eyes watering uncontrollably as his small, clawed hands trembled. This was something he’d have to get used to - he knew that - but he felt he deserved some slack. Especially considering what it was he’d seen. 

“What was it child? What did you see?” Whoever ran their hand along his back was speaking, her calm, soothing voice aiding in him regaining control of his breath. 

He remained silent for a few moments, before leaning back and letting out a sigh before speaking. 

“He's left the village.” An unsure pause. “The Hunt has begun.”


	2. The Sorry Fate of the Wandering Tradesman

Getting wood fucking  _ sucked. _

Clay had never met his uncle - the man had died long before the twenty-one year old had been born - but he was almost positive that he’d agree with him. 

It was hot, even in the shade, and he’d already had to take his sweatshirt off and tie it around his waist so as to not lose it immediately. Mind you - with it’s neon green coloration he was almost certain it would be near  _ impossible _ for him to lose it anyway. 

The heat wasn’t the worst part though, no. 

His fingertips were already bleeding from pulling against the bark in an attempt to peel away salvageable pieces. One’s that he could craft into a tool - preferably enough to make an axe. Clay had already found quite a few sticks and had them stuffed in his inventory. A person’s inventory… it was a strange thing, almost like magic. It allowed them to store things, without having to carry around a heavy backpack. It made for easier travel, and most chose not to question its origin. 

Clay was one of those people. 

He spent a while pulling a few more small planks from the tree, taking a moment afterwards to examine his hands. He cursed quietly, a sharp stinging feeling overtaking the throbbing pain. He could deal with his hands later. Right now he needed to focus on finding basic resources. 

As Clay looked over what he’d managed to scavenge, he frowned a bit. He only had enough wood for a crafting table and an axe - and that was certainly pushing it. He crafted them though, the table first in order to aid in his making the axe. 

Within a few minutes he held the wooden axe in his hand, still wincing a bit at the pain in his fingers as his grip shifted. Clay let out a sigh, nodding a bit to himself. 

“This should make things a little easier…” He hummed softly to himself, chest tight as he approached the nearest tree. He spun the tool a bit in his hands, almost instantly regretting it as his finger’s seemed to cry out at the action. 

Clay let out a sigh, before raising the axe. ‘It’s time you meet my little friend.” The words escaped his mouth as he slammed the blade against the side of the tree. The bark splintered beneath the axe, and he couldn’t help but to smirk slightly.  _ How does it feel?  _ He thought smugly, hitting it again. Within a few minutes, he had a good amount of wood, having chopped down two or three trees to get it. 

He settled back beside his crafting bench, making a pickaxe, sword, and a shovel - you never knew when you’d need one. After situating himself, tools in hand, he looked around the forest again. He was along the edge of it, and he could still see the plains biome where his village resided. Clay couldn’t go back to the plains, he could be seen. Would anything happen if he was? What would they do? They wouldn’t kill him, would they? He was almost certain they couldn’t even if they wanted to. 

So what if he went back to see them again? After all, he’d already broken almost every other one of the Champion’s rules. Clay almost took a step, before he stopped himself.  _ No. It’s easier this way… for all of us.  _

With that internal dilemma hardly settled, Clay turned his attention back to the forest. He already had plenty of wood, but he knew that some cave systems had openings beneath the trees, and animals often rested in the shade of the forest’s leafy canopy. Animals… food. 

Just the idea of it made Clay’s stomach grumble in response. He hadn’t eaten prior to leaving, and now that he was on his own he couldn’t just wait for it to be handed to him on a silver platter.

Mind made up, Clay moved further into the forest. It was much cooler here, he noticed. A gentle breeze weaved between the trunks, rustling the leaves above. It was very serene, leaving Clay in awe. He’d been in this forest before, during his training, but that had always been near its edge, where the plains were still visible. This was unfamiliar territory now, could be dangerous, but Clay wasn’t even considering that fact as his eyes shifted around. He’d hardly been out of the village, and he deeply regretted that he hadn’t forced his father to allow him to accompany any of the hunting parties. 

That being said, food was his priority - not sight-seeing. Aside from the buzzing of bees, he heard nothing. No animal noises, at least. 

He wandered for a while, letting out a long sigh as he came up empty handed. He knew it was only the first day, and that even if he didn’t find anything today he might tomorrow, but he couldn’t help but to ponder if any Champions had starved to death? How many hadn’t even made it to the dragon? It was a terrifying thought, that he’d meet his end here in the Overworld rather than facing down his adversary. As much as being thrown into the Void would probably suck - it was better than having his brains eaten by a zombie or starving to death. 

With those comforting thoughts filtering through his mind, he pushed onward, directing his focus towards finding a cave entrance. If food refused to present itself, perhaps a cave would. 

He couldn’t see the sun from where he stood beneath the treetops, but based on the shadows it cast as it filtered through the leaves, he could assume in was a good bit past noon. Clay would have to hurry if he wanted to find shelter before night fell. 

His luck seemed to be shifting though and he soon found himself standing in front of a gaping cave entrance. Clay had no torches, an unfortunate occurrence, but with the aid of the natural light behind him he could vaguely make out the black lumps sticking out of the stone not too far into the cave. 

A risk, but one he knew would be worth it in the long run. 

Clay carefully began to descend into the cave, grabbing some stone on his way through in order to craft a better pickaxe to mine the coal with. He reached it rather quickly, collecting a good amount of it before letting out a sigh and leaning back against the stone wall behind him. He shivered as his thin t-shirt lacked the thickness to protect him from the chill of the cold rock. 

He untied his sweatshirt off from around his waist, slipping it back over his head as he looked onward. Clay couldn’t see any iron from where he stood, but he could hear a faint groaning from deeper inside. 

A zombie. 

If Clay were any younger, he might’ve squealed in excitement. All the monsters he’d faced during his training had been in a controlled environment with others around to help him if necessary. Now, for the first time, he was alone. He couldn’t depend on others anymore, even though he’d never really chosen to do so in the first place. 

Taking in another breath, mind made up, he made a torch. Sword in one hand, light source in the other, he moved further down. He nearly slipped at one point, the drop rather steep, and he dropped his torch. It hit the ground below, a thudding noise echoing throughout the cavern. 

Clay froze, remaining still for multiple moments as he waited to see if there was a reaction from below. Sure enough, the groaning grew louder, and soon enough the shadow of a zombie was visible. The blond’s breath caught in his throat. He’d fucked up. He knew it, the zombie knew it. Hell, his uncle’s ghost fucking knew it. He’d allowed his excitement to cloud his rationality and now he was clinging to a rock wall, torch below him and sword very uncomfortably pressed against the wall. 

He let out a deep, somewhat shaky breath as his gaze remained on the shadow, locked there in order to catch any sight of movement. After some time and no movement, he shifted his foot so he could try to climb back up. As though sensing his movement, the zombie let out another groan and moved into view. As Clay looked over it he felt nauseas. He recognized the tattered apparel it still wore - a traveling trader. Clay couldn’t help but to wonder how he’d gotten down here, and how long it’d been since he’d turned into… that. Another victim. Another loser of the dragon’s sick and twisted games. 

It made him sick. 

Whatever awe and excitement that had filled Clay previously was gone, stripped away by the sight before. His lips pressed in a thin line, and he considered what he could do in his current situation. He knew of no way to return the man to life, but he could still save him. He could end him, free him. 

Clay leaned forward a bit so he could better reach his sword, carefully pulling it from its sheath. He tried to remain as quiet as possible, grip tightening around the hilt and sending a short spark of pain through his fingers. He winced, letting out a nearly inaudible hiss. Perhaps the adrenaline and excitement had allowed him to forget his previous wounds, but whatever had allowed him to not notice the pain was gone now, and it was quickly coming back to him. He took in a deep breath, thinking on the best course of action. 

He looked around the cave below. There was a dark tunnel trailing off to the right, but even with the torchlight below he couldn’t see very far inside. He could climb down in that direction to avoid the zombie until he was able to properly face it. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about it trying to bite his leg off as he tried to get down.  _ Unless it tracks me by scent. _

Clay considered the possibility for a moment. He didn’t doubt sight was apart of it’s ability to track things, but could it smell him? Did zombies have properly working noses? The thought made him shiver. 

“Scratch that idea…” He muttered, before looking back down at the zombie. He was only a few yards above it, so perhaps a fall wouldn’t stun him too much. Was it worth the risk? He was unsure.  _ Find a way to break my fall. _ As Clay looked around he could see no water, and he froze as an idea came to mind. 

He could drop on the zombie, use gravity and the momentum of the fall to kill it quickly. Risky, but he was out of ideas and short on time. He needed to get back to the surface and find some place to set up camp before nightfall. 

Sword in hand, Clay took a deep breath. Without a word or thought, he forced his fingers to loosen their grip on the stone wall, feet disconnecting from the small ledges they’d found as he dropped like a rock. Within a moment his sword had collided with the zombie’s skull, breaking through the cracked bone and deeper into the creature's body. As Clay’s body hit the ground and collapsed on top of the now dead-again being, he let out a gasp. His knees buckled and his left hand shot out in order to stop him from breaking his nose on the stone floor. As it turns out, he was a bit larger than the tradesman had been, and all the body had been able to do was slow his fall. 

The stench was the first thing he noticed as he got over his shock, and he forced himself to stand - albeit a tad shakily. He forced himself not to look at the zombie as he pulled his sword out and gathered his torch. His fingers screamed at him, and he sighed. 

Clay began to head down the right tunnel, finding a rather sizable iron vein and a creeper that almost appeared positioned to protect it. With careful strikes and a bit of running backwards, Clay soon managed to slay the green creature. He collected the bit of gunpowder it dropped, before setting his sights on the iron vein. He quickly gathered it and returned to the wall with no other problems. He began the slow climb back up, gritting his teeth. The torch in his one hand was certainly slowing him down more than his fingers, and he glanced back down. He almost immediately regret his decision. A skeleton stood below, eyes locked on him. Its boney hands drew back the string of the bow, an arrow notched, and with very little thought Clay dropped the torch so it’d land on the zombie’s corpse. 

A moment later there was a small blaze below him, distracting the skeleton as it moved to avoid the fire, giving Clay the few seconds he needed to pull himself further up and over the ledge. As he got back to his feet, an arrow whizzed past his head, Clay letting out a small string of curses as he backed away from the ledge. 

As he moved back through the cave he let out a deep, shuddered breath. He was tired, his hands hurt, and he now knew exactly what it was like to stare down real monsters. None of that mattered though. This is what he’d spent his whole life training for. This was exactly what he had to surpass if he ever wanted to complete his mission, to save his people. As terrifying as it was, he now knew what he was dealing with. He knew to be careful, and he knew to be smart. 

As he neared the entrance of the cave he suppressed a gasp, instead his lips drew into a thin line as he faced the darkness that stretched out before him. 

Night had fallen, and he was hardly prepared for it. 

He took a step back, away from the monsters he knew were waiting for him a bit further beneath the trees, before he stopped, breath catching in his throat as something sharp and cold pressed into his back. 

“Afraid of the dark?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo  
> second chapter done
> 
> I'm sitting on a train for eight hours, so I'm working on updates. can't promise there will be everyday updates for long tho unfortunately. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed tho! let me know what you think!  
> peace.


	3. A Challenger Approaches

Clay didn’t dare move even an inch as the pressure on the metal jammed into his back grew. He forced himself not to let out any audible noises of discomfort, remaining silent as he heard what almost sounded like thoughtful humming behind him. 

He didn’t recognize the voice, though truthfully it would’ve been more concerning if he did. The idea of a member of his village attacking him like this was disturbing and left his brows creased. Whoever it was who had spoken had an accent of sorts, but that too was unfamiliar to him. Perhaps the man behind him was from another village. Clay knew of rivalries between towns, though he couldn’t recall any other villages being close enough to his own for there to be issues. 

_ A pillager, perhaps? _ That idea was a bit more worrying, as pillagers often traveled in large parties. One man, one man Clay could take. Six or seven was a completely different story, however. 

Swallowing the bile in his throat, Clay finally opened his mouth to speak. “What do you want? Supplies? I have nothing of value.” His words were slow, statements clear, and voice void of any sort of emotion that could set the man behind him off. That didn’t seem to make a difference though, as the moment he’d finished speaking the knife was suddenly pushed in further. Clay couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped his lips this time as he felt the skin split beneath it and a warm wetness began to trickle down his back. 

The twenty-one year-old remained frozen in place, breath catching in his throat as his thoughts seemed to fly by a mile a minute. This was another person, not some dumb monster he could trick or overpower. Well… if he could get this knife out of his back… 

Clay was a rather sizable man; he had to be in order to fulfill his purpose. If he could overpower whoever was behind him and get hold of their weapon - if it were superior to his own that’d be even better - then there was a chance of escape. 

“I know,” the male behind him finally spoke, his voice higher pitched than Clay’s own. “But I’m not surprised that’s where your simple mind traveled to.” The blond grit his teeth a little at that, but he once again said nothing, hardly moving aside from breathing, and even then all movements were minimal. 

If his attacker wasn’t here for his valuables, Clay couldn’t think of what he wanted. He didn’t seem to be a thief, nor a pillager if the others hadn’t already shown up.  _ Does he just want to kill me? What is there to gain from that? _

“Stay still.” The knife pressed deeper into his back, earning a slight gasp from Clay. He hadn’t even realized he’d shifted, hand drifting towards the hilt of his sword subconsciously. 

Now though, he found himself a tad confused. If the man wanted nothing from him, why the hell was he still alive? It made little sense, unless his assaulter wasn’t planning on killing him at all, and if he was: was he afraid to? 

“So what’s your plan here?” The words escaped Clay’s mouth before he could silence himself. Perhaps he could distract whoever it was long enough to find an opening. “You don’t want my stuff, and you haven’t killed me yet. So what is it you want?” His voice was monotonous as he spoke, back beginning to sting harshly. Even with the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins, he was starting to feel it burn. 

Whoever was behind him shifted on their feet, something he could unfortunately  _ feel _ because of the blade currently poked into his spine. 

“ _ Yet _ is the key word in that statement.” If the male was attempting to sound intimidating, he was failing in Clay’s eyes. If not for his current predicament, he might’ve even chuckled in response. 

“ _ Yet, _ ” Clay agreed off-handedly, humming softly in reply. “So why haven’t you done it yet?” Another shift - Notch  _ that hurts a lot _ . Between the stinging in his back and his adversaries uncertainty, Clay found himself growing more and more impatient. 

There was no response for a few moments and Clay pondered if the man had decided to just kill, just end it and go off to enjoy the rest of his day, but he eventually spoke again. 

“Because I’m offering you a choice.” Now the male’s voice was uncertain, slightly shaky. Clay’s opportunity was fast approaching. 

“Oh?”

“Abandon your quest. End it here and go live a long, happy life somewhere. Forget all of this, become a farmer or something.” The grip on the knife relaxed slightly as he spoke, the hesitant nature of his words reaching his hands. Clay raised an eyebrow. 

“You know what? That’s the second time I’ve heard that today, and I’ve got to admit - it’s rather annoying.” 

It happened within a fraction of a second. 

Clay whipped around, grip closing around the shaft of an arrow and pulling it away from his opponent, who’d barely had time to offer a surprised reaction, mind still trying to catch up with what was occurring. Despite the pain in his hands Clay gripped the arrow - a bit confused about the male’s weapon of choice - before kicking out and knocking his adversary to the ground. A crack sounded as he landed and he took notice of the now-broken bow that the male wore. Within mere moments Clay was kneeling on top of him, his knees keeping the man’s arms pressed painfully against the ground and the arrow tip pressed dangerously against his neck. 

As the male choked in surprise, taking a moment to process what had just happened, Clay took a moment to examine his appearance. He had lighter brown hair, tussled and messy, though that was likely due to having just been thrown to the floor. White glasses had fallen to the side, revealing blinking brown eyes that stared back at Clay, still too confused to be terrified despite the knife pressed up against the pale skin of his adams’ apple. He was skinny and Clay almost snorted at how much smaller he was. How had he believed this would end? Especially if Clay chose to fight back as he had? 

As Clay’s eyes narrowed the other male seemed to realize just how poor his current situation was, and he began to struggle beneath the taller man’s weight. Clay frowned deeper in response, pushing the arrow a bit deeper into his skin, earning him a shrill noise in response. 

“Stay still.” He almost sneered, repeating what the brunette had said before. “Who the hell are you?” Clay knew he was much better at being threatening, voice lower with more of a bite when he wanted. It was clear the male below him felt the same way, as he stopped shifting around, eyes wide as they stared back up at the blonde. He almost looked like a child, an interesting and amusing prospect as Clay intently stared down at him. A few more moments passed. “Well?” 

His adversary flinched, but his jaw remained firmly shut, despite how his eyes darted around in search of some way to escape. Clay held him tightly though, his other hand having taken a fistful of the male’s brown hair in order to keep him down. 

Letting out a short, frustrated sigh, he shifted a bit. “How about I give you a choice? Hm?” As Clay stared into the other man’s brown gaze, he noticed something burning behind the terror, behind the fear. It was easily recognizable to him, a familiar emotion. Anger, hatred. He was all too familiar with them. This man’s job had certainly been to kill him. It was too bad for him that he’d failed. “Tell me who you are, where you’re from, and why you’re trying to kill me, and maybe I’ll let you go. You can live a long, happy life somewhere. Forget all of this, become a farmer or something.” He offered, lips curled into a slight smirk as he recalled the man’s previous offer. He leaned in a bit closer, arrow unmoving from its position. “And let me just tell you now - if you make the wrong choice,  _ I _ won’t hesitate.” His voice was little more than a hiss as he spoke. The words escaped his mouth without thought, years of training to be cold when needed and of killing monsters (even if it was under supervision) leaving him seemingly immune to the idea of killing if and when threatened.  _ This isn’t some monster though. _ The thought wasn’t consciously brought to mind, but as it passed through Clay’s mind he found himself looking back down at the man. It was true, this was another person, but so were pillagers and vindicators. 

Being human didn’t stop someone from being a monster. 

Still, as moments past Clay found himself slightly less inclined to end the male’s life. Sure, he was annoying, but he was hardly a threat. He was small and didn’t appear to be the most keen killer. 

The brunette’s mouth remained shut as they sat there for almost a minute, one on top of the other, arrowhead to throat. The tension between them almost made it difficult to breathe as they glared at one another. 

Clay opened his mouth to speak again, a final warning to the small man below him, when what sounded like a twig snapped behind him. Already on edge, he found himself turning quickly, gaze sharp as he held the arrow in a threatening manner, only to see nothing there. 

Confusion lit in his gaze for a moment as he quickly examined the foliage, before he suddenly felt the man beneath him struggle again. Due to his current position, his balance was off, and with a sudden burst of strength the male managed to knock him off, causing Clay to hit the ground with a grunt and a small shout. 

Despite the surprise clouding his mind for a few moments and the pain in his hands and back, Clay managed to get back to his feet rather quickly, now-splintered arrow in hand as his gaze shoots around, searching for his attacker once more. His eyes scoured the ground for footsteps, but he saw none. Aside from the sounds of monsters, Clay could hear no foreign noises. 

He grit his teeth, annoyed at both his assailant and himself. Had he hesitated? Had he allowed his adversary to escape? He knew he had, and he absolutely despised that fact. Clay knew it would come back to bite him in the ass later, but what could he do about it now. The man was gone, almost as though he’d either teleported away or never been there at all; and what had caused that twig to break? It was entirely possible that it was some passing creature - a skeleton or zombie - but it was almost too well-timed. 

It was infuriating, but Clay knew he had other things to worry about. Night had fallen, and he could hardly be considered prepared. So, forcing the night’s events from his thoughts, he crafted a furnace, setting it up to smelt his iron. As the night continued he stood in the cave, sword in his hand, ready for whatever might come to challenge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was that? was that okay?  
> i apologize for the fact that these chapters aren't super long, and am working on making them longer.  
> just moved into my college dorm, but classes don't start for a few days, so i should be able to get a few chapters posted soon!
> 
> peace


	4. The Village Cleric

Clay was a very fortunate man. 

Despite his troubling predicaments the day prior and earlier in the night, he’d managed to avoid many attacks from monstrous assailants. He’d set up a few torches around the area, the fire and light warding off any creatures who may have otherwise approached. One or two curious zombies had wandered into his cave, but they’d been relatively easy to dispatch. A few swipes of his new iron sword and they’d met their end - for the second and final time. 

Clay had managed to collect a bit of iron before his encounter with the zombie the day before, finding another small vein after mining out some stone later in the evening. Smelting the ore, he’d managed to craft a few small things, such a sword, pickaxe, and an axe. He’d had enough left over iron for a helmet, but had decided upon a bucket instead. 

Now, as sunlight from the growing dawn began to filter through the leaves of the trees above, Clay’s gaze shifted back to the potion his sister had given him. He’d completely forgotten about it after being attacked, and upon eventually remembering he’d tore through his bag to ensure it hadn’t been broken. The fact that he’d been able to  _ see  _ his bag had almost been enough to calm his worries, but he’d still wanted to be sure. Having it made him feel a tad guilty. It was against the law for him to have it, but so was everything else he’d done the previous morning. Not being gone before the village woke up… seeing his sister…

Clay let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but he was almost positive he’d cursed himself to fail. 

With the sun rising, Clay began to pack up his things, placing his items into his bag. His belt had a sheath for his sword and a holster for his axe as well, having cheekily sewed them to his belt the day before leaving his village. 

Allowing a small yawn to escape him, he left the safety of his cave, moving back into the forest. Truthfully, he’d never ventured very far from the village. He’d never been allowed for fear he’d be killed before he could go after the dragon. His village wasn’t too keen on waiting another twenty-one years, even though they all knew how likely it was. No one had offered him anything but praise in the days before he’d left, but he wasn’t stupid. Clay could hear the somber undertone, the way they’d sometimes avert his eyes or give his hand a comforting squeeze. They hadn’t seemed to understand that Clay wasn’t going to fail. He wouldn’t allow himself to. 

Even if he’d never left, he’d studied every map he could. He knew where the Stronghold was, and he knew of landmarks along the path. Clay was well-aware of where he was headed, and at this rate he’d reach his first stop by nightfall. 

The forest was relatively peaceful, most monsters having fled to caves in order to avoid burning in the sunlight as it filtered through the leaves. Around mid-day he’d come across a small family of cows. The parents were dead within minutes, Clay having snuck around in order to avoid sending them running. As he stood over the bodies of its parents, the smallest cow stumbled away, letting out rather high-pitched, distressed noises as it vanished deeper into the foliage. Clay’s gaze followed it until it vanished. If it were worth much, he might’ve gone after it, but it was still too small for it to provide any good, lean meat, and it’s hide was too thin for proper leather. The only thing killing it would do is waste Clay’s weapons durability. 

Within an hour Clay finished collecting what resources he could from the cows. He got a good bit of leather from them, which he’d probably be able to sell, as well as some meat he could cook later on. 

He hummed a bit to himself as he continued through the oak forest. Clay passed a few more animals along the way, mostly fleet-footed rabbits that darted away before he could move to catch them. The day passed by relatively quickly as he maneuvered through the foliage and undergrowth. 

By the time noon rolled around, Clay’s stomach was rumbling and tensing up in an almost painful manner, reminding the man that he hadn’t eaten since he’d left his home the day prior. He hadn’t had time to hunt yesterday, and even if he had, being assaulted had practically eradicated his appetite. He was feeling it a bit now though, stomach twisting as he stepped through the bushes. 

He knew he’d be alright, and he planned to cook some of what he’d salvaged from the cows once he had reached his destination and was safe. He could feel his feet dragging a bit as he continued walking. He hadn’t really slept the night before either - adrenaline rushing through his veins as he remained alert in case of a second attack. Another yawn escaped, but he didn’t slow. Once he’d reach his destination, he’d be able to get the first proper rest of his quest. 

Luckily he arrived there with very few issues. Aside from his growing hunger and fatigue, he couldn’t help but to relax as the oak trees around him shifted to spruce, the darker trees taking over the forest in this area. It meant he was close, and the male let out a small sigh. The air was a bit colder here, and he slipped his bag off of his shoulder in order to unwrap his sweatshirt from around his waist. He slid it over his head, being careful not to cut himself on the blade of his axe as he put it on. He grabbed his bag once more and continued.

As Clay neared his destination, he found new-found energy, walking a bit faster as he found the prospect of rest rather exciting. Within moments he saw the small trails of smoke filtering into the sky. Humming softly, Clay’s feet found the trail into the village. The sun was beginning to set, but as Clay passed a small row of houses, he found their lights to be off and the buildings to be vacant. He could hear a bit of commotion up ahead, and as he neared the center of the village he found that despite the time of day the marketplace still bustled as villagers finished their trades and chatted away with who’d listen. 

His somewhat odd, ruffled appearance earned a few glances his way, as this was a smaller, more secluded village. Clay found most of them to be friendly though; nods of acknowledgement or short waves before they’d return to their bargaining or their conversation. He came across the stall he was searching for rather quickly, the deeper purple and bright gold colors standing out in the otherwise dull marketplace. 

A Cleric’s stand. Clay’s mission was to defeat the Ender Dragon, and in order to do that he’d need ender pearls. They were relatively difficult to come by, but he was aware that some Clerics sold them, though it often depended on the size of the village and the openness of the area. The black, lanky creatures seemed to prefer more open areas that resembled that of their native dimension. Clay couldn’t entirely blame them. Despite his age and how excited he truly was for his quest, as his gaze shifted over the villagers he couldn’t help but to feel homesick, despite the odd familiarity the space held. Despite being a spruce village, it didn’t feel that different from his own home in the plains. 

As he approached, the Cleric raised a slight eyebrow, her lips drawn in a thin line, though she said nothing. Clay paused in front of her stand, pulling out the leather he’d gotten from his earlier hunt, setting them down on the stand. The woman seemed generally unimpressed, but looked back to Clay. 

“How can I help you?” It may have been due to how late in the day it was, but her voice had an odd, tired strain to it, and she didn’t seem very enthused as her gaze shifted over Clay. Her sharp gaze faltered over his sword and axe, before growing perhaps more piercing before as she looked Clay in the face once more. It was oddly reminiscent of the look a mother offered her child before a scolding, and the adventurer felt a bit hot for a few moments, suddenly wishing he had some sort of mask to hide behind. When she’d spoken, Clay had quickly taken notice of the accent she had. It was similar to that of the man who’d attacked him the night prior, but it was a bit heavier, more apparent. A shiver ran up his spine as he considered the idea that his attacker had come from this village, sparing a glance around the market before looking back to the Cleric.

“I’m looking to trade.” He began firmly, forcing himself to continue standing straight despite her stare and his own fatigue. I’m in need of a few ender pearls, and I’ve heard some Clerics are often willing to tr -“ 

“Ender pearls? What could you possibly need those for?” She practically hummed, her expression was curious, questioning, but almost knowing. It irked the male, and he shifted on the balls of his feet. 

Before he could speak, though, barely having opened his mouth to respond, she spoke again. “Anyway, it hardly matters. I’m afraid I can’t help you.” The words were decisive, an end to Clay’s inquiry. The Cleric eyed him for another moment before continuing. “How far have you traveled? You don’t seem like you come from a forest village.” She mused, her hands running over the stands cloth covering. Her hands rubbed against the leather, and she seemed to consider it for a moment before looking too Clay as if expecting a reaction. As her gaze shifted back to him, he spoke, her gaze still piercing, though it now held a bit of something new, something he couldn’t quite understand or describe.

“A bit. My village is about two days due east.” He stated after a few moments. He was unsure why she was interested in something as trivial and unimportant as that, but said nothing else. The way she’d so quickly dismissed the topic on ender pearls was a tad strange. He wasn’t going to push though, he was too tired for an argument. Clay’s gaze shifted once more as the sky continued to darken. The commotion was dwindling, and most stalls were beginning to pack up for the night.

The Cleric hummed softly, her eyes following Clay’s as he looked around, before she spoke again. “I’m assuming you’ll be looking for a place to stay if that’s the case?” She straightened, beginning to take a few items off of the stall’s counter and placing them into a chest beside her. Clay caught sight of the familiar glow of an experience bottle as well as a few rabbits' feet, but the majority of his attention remained on the woman, his brows furrowed slightly. Was she going to offer him the location of the village’s inn? This one seemed small, and upon entering he’d figured it was unlikely it had one at all. Perhaps he was wrong. 

He wasn’t wrong, as it turned out. 

The Cleric grabbed his leather from the table as well, blowing out the lantern hanging just inside in one strong breath, before exiting her stall. Clay blinked. Had the Cleric just stolen his leather? 

He didn’t move from his spot, locked in place as his gaze followed the Cleric. She took a few steps before she seemed to take notice of the fact that he hadn’t followed. She glanced behind her, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“It’s getting dark. Are you coming, or do you plan to sleep outside with the phantoms?” Despite her raised eyebrow, no sarcasm laced the Cleric’s tone, only practiced patience. Clay hung back for a moment more, his wariness towards strangers stopping him from immediately following after the woman. She seemed nice enough, though he knew nothing about her. He was in a foreign village, and she was a shopkeeper who’s stand he’d just so happened to approach. If she was in fact allowing him to spend the night in her home... he found that to be an oddly hospitable action. To trust a total stranger in your home while you slept…

Another moment passed before Clay finally moved, taking a few steps to follow after the Cleric. She waited until he’d maneuvered around the stand before she’d continued on, Clay following after her. 

They trekked along the dirt path in silence for a few moments before the woman glanced back at him. Her gaze rested there for a moment, her face somewhat shaded as the sun set in front of them, nearing it’s complete descent beneath the tree line. They passed a few homes as they walked, the Cleric looking forward once more, but she did not slow as they began walking up a hill, a relatively large home residing on the top. 

“You can stay with us tonight, free of charge.” The woman explained, catching Clay somewhat off-guard as the silence was broken. She glanced back at him once more as they reached the hill’s crest, approaching the doorway. “There’s an empty room across from my sons. It’s just up the steps and to the right.” She instructed, before resting a hand on the doorknob and twisting. As she pushed the door open she paused, looking back to Clay one last time. “And please, take your shoes off once you’re inside. I spent an hour washing the floor this morning.” Clay only nodded, saying nothing else as she entered the home first, following suit after a moment. He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him as the moon began to rise into the sky, the last orange streaks of dusk fading to a darker blue, the stars shining brightly overhead.

He did as had been requested of him, undoing the laces of his boots and pulling them off, carefully setting them down so that the dried mud that had accumulated along the soles wouldn’t chip off and dirty the newly cleaned floor. 

The Cleric hummed softly as she too approaches the steps, having already taken her shoes off. She set Clay’s leather down on the table, not offering him a glance before she began making her way towards the steps. He quickly opened his mouth to speak, not wanting to lose an opportunity to say thank you and seem like a horrid guest. 

“Um, thank you. For this.” He offered, the statement of gratitude coming out a bit awkward. She hardly seemed to care though, only nodding. He could tell by her somewhat sluggish movements she was tired, and he couldn’t blame her. He was well aware of a villager’s schedule - he was one after all. He imagined different villages had different wake-up times and such, but he was familiar with how much work one often completed in a day. There were plenty of times where he’d come home just as the sun set, limbs heavy as he climbed up the steps to his room, before collapsing onto his bed and promptly passing out. 

Clay watched as she left, noting that the stairs were surprisingly quiet, before approaching the table. He rolled up the strips of leather and slid them back into his bag. With that, he took a moment to allow himself to examine his surroundings. The bottom floor seemed to only host a table, kitchen area, and a few chairs. It was quaint, and aside from the deep purple rug there was little to no decorations. A few candles lit the bottom floor, creating an almost ominous environment. Clay hummed softly, feeling quite a few conflicting emotions in that moment. He knew he should leave. He didn’t know if he could trust these people, and the look that Cleric had given him after he’d asked for pearls… it was almost knowing. 

Then again, where else was he supposed to go? It certainly didn’t seem like this small village had an inn. Would that have left him to fend for himself in a cave for the second night in a row? Should he not allow himself another night of proper rest before continuing on with his mission? The temptation began to override his common sense and training, his head heavy as a yawn escaped him. 

One night, he firmly decided. He’d be gone by dawn. 

Until then, though, sleep was important. Sleep was very important. Clay was quite certain that sleep might even be more important than his mission as he trudged up the steps and to the right, eyelids heavy. He noticed two doors, just as the Cleric had explained. One appeared to have been slammed multiple times, the frame splintered in places. Clay could only raise an eyebrow in silent wonder, before grabbing the handle of the door opposite it. As he stepped closer he heard the floorboards creak, wincing a bit at the noise for fear he might wake one of the house’s occupants up. Fortunately, no one appeared after a few moments of him standing there. 

He twisted the knob, stepping into the dark room. After giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he closed the door behind him, dropped his bag, and promptly - and quite ungracefully - flopped onto the bed provided to him, eyes closed before his head had even hit the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost 3k words  
> we're getting there y'all
> 
> anyway, sorry this chapter was a tad boring. last bit of filler before we get to some more juicy stuff starting next chapter. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed it none-the-less!
> 
> i think you guys will like next chapter though. fun character reveal coming up lol


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